Chapter 41: ✿Chapter 35✿

"खामोशी में छुपा एक अहसास है,

शुरुआत-ए-मोहब्बत का ये खास है।

दिल धड़कता है, बात कहने को,

पर लफ़्ज़ थम जाते हैं, बस सुनने को।"

✧

Avyansh's POV

"Did you get the info?" I asked my secretary without looking up from the file I was reviewing.

"Yes, sir," he said promptly, handing over a thin dossier to me.

I took it and leaned back in my chair, opening the folder with deliberate slowness. My eyes scanned the first page-basic details.

Name: Avantika Agarwal

Age: ××

Education: Graduated from XYZ College with a degree in Economics.

The next section caught my attention.

Schooling:

Attended ABC High School until her 12th grade.

Noted for excelling in academics and extracurriculars, particularly music.

Received over 100 medals and awards in music competitions until the end of 12th grade. Left music after that.

Personal Life (School Years):

Reported incidents of bullying during middle and high school.

Situations were managed by her closest friend, Akshat Singhania.

Akshat Singhania... the name tugged at something in my memory, but I couldn't place it. I turned to the next page.

Family Background:

Closest to her grandparents during her childhood.

Her grandmother passed away in an accident at home. Avantika was the only one reportedly present when it happened.

There was a photo attached-her 10th-grade picture. Her face was round, soft, and chubby, but her eyes stood out the most. Even in that innocent-looking photo, her eyes held a dullness that I couldn't ignore.

I flipped to another page.

Relationships:

Rumor said that she had a boyfriend during graduation years-Name: ××

No major details regarding him except that the relationship didn't last .

The following pages contained more photographs, and each one seemed to tell the same story. In every image, whether in a family function or a school event, her face looked hollow, and her eyes appeared slightly swollen, as if she'd been crying.

Mental Health:

Began consulting a therapist during Class 10 after her grandmother death.

Continued therapy throughout college.

I stopped reading, my fingers still on the paper. Continued therapy... until now.

The words felt heavier than they should. I turned the page, and the final entry confirmed it.

Present Status:

Currently consulting a therapist once a month. Details of the therapist are confidential.

I frowned. She was still in therapy? Why hadn't anyone mentioned this? Not her parents. Not her...

A memory surfaced-Avantika's tear-streaked face after the party, her trembling voice. "I'm going to die."

The lines on my forehead deepened. Was she still battling the same demons from school? What had really happened during those years to scar her so deeply?

I closed the file, letting out a slow breath. There was more to Avantika than anyone had let on. And now... it was up to me to figure out everything they hadn't told me.

I rubbed my hands over my face, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on my shoulders. Avantika's life... it was like a sealed book, filled with untold stories and layers I had barely begun to uncover.

Her struggles, her fears-so much was shrouded in secrecy, and I was piecing together fragments of a puzzle without a picture to guide me.

One name kept echoing in my mind. Akshat. Akshat Singhania.

"Who is he?" I asked, my voice sharp, as I turned to my secretary.

He adjusted his glasses, quickly pulling up information on his tablet. "Sir," he began, "Akshat Singhania is the grandson of Mr. Rajveer Singhania, the founder of Imperial Horizons Corp., one of the largest conglomerates in the country. They specialize in luxury real estate, global trade, and high-end technology investments. The Singhanias are extremely wealthy and influential."

I nodded, urging him to continue.

"Akshat was originally set to take over as CEO of Imperial Horizons," He said, scrolling through his notes.

"He completed his business studies in the US a few years ago, but instead of stepping into the role, he chose to step away. Recently, he's been studying business again, this time in Mumbai. The reason for this decision is... unclear."

My brow furrowed as I leaned forward. "Studying again? Why? He's already qualified, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir," He replied, his tone professional. "He's already highly qualified, but he chose to re-enroll. What's more, after he left the company, he kept an incredibly low profile. He was spotted in various countries-Europe, Southeast Asia-but never stayed in one place for too long. He hasn't been active on social media either, maintaining a very private life. His reasons for these decisions are not publicly known."

I let out a slow breath, trying to piece together what I was hearing. Akshat Singhania. The grandson of a business mogul. Highly educated, reclusive, and now inexplicably back in Mumbai.

Something didn't add up. Why would someone with his background and opportunities choose to study again? And why was his name surfacing now, tied to Avantika?

"Does he have any controversies or scandals tied to him?" I asked, my tone sharp.

"None that I could find, sir," He said. "His family's reputation is impeccable, and Akshat himself is known for being quiet and disciplined. He rarely attended social events and avoided the spotlight, even when his name was being associated with Imperial Horizons."

I leaned back in my chair, my fingers tapping the armrest as my mind raced. On the surface, Akshat seemed untouchable, a man with no visible flaws. But if there was one thing I knew about powerful families, it was that the cleanest surfaces often hid the darkest secrets.

"Keep digging," I said, my voice cold and firm. "I want every piece of information you can find about him. His relationships, his movements, his deals-everything. If he's here in Mumbai, I want to know why. And I want to know what connection he has to Avantika."

"Yes, sir," He replied, nodding as he exited the room.

As the door clicked shut, I turned my gaze toward the window, my jaw clenched. Whoever Akshat Singhania was, he wasn't just a shadow from Avantika's past. He was a key to understanding her story, and I wouldn't stop until I knew the truth.

--

I stepped through the front door, loosening my tie as the familiar hum of the house greeted me. The maid appeared promptly, holding out a glass of water and taking my suitcase from my hand.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, taking a sip of the cool water.

She gave me a polite smile. "The elders have gone to bed, sahab. The others are on the terrace."

I raised an eyebrow. "Others?"

"Ji, sahab. Tara ma'am, Ruhaan sir, and the twins and-Dev and Devika. Everyone is there."

I nodded slowly, setting the glass down on the table. "And Avantika?"

The maid hesitated for a moment, then replied, "Yes, she's there too."

I sighed internally, a wry smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "Oh, so... the guests are here," I muttered under my breath. "And headaches too." My thoughts immediately went to my cousin Ruhaan, the self-proclaimed life of every party-and the source of most of my frustrations.

"Yes, sahab," the maid added, oblivious to my inner monologue.

I nodded again, already imagining the scene on the terrace. Laughter, teasing, maybe a bit of chaos-the usual when the family gathered like this. And Avantika, caught somewhere in the middle of it all.

"Alright," I said, straightening my posture. "I'll head up."

The maid gave a small bow before disappearing down the hallway, leaving me to make my way toward the terrace, preparing myself for whatever awaited me.

---

After everyone left the terrace, the silence wrapped around us like a blanket. I knew by the look Ruhaan gave me before heading downstairs and agreeing quickly he saw it.

And now he will tease me. The cool night breeze carried with it the faint echoes of laughter from earlier, but now it was just the two of us. I gestured for her to stay, my tone calm yet firm.

"The questions will be asked later that I told you in the morning.." I said.

She looked at me, her gaze slightly puzzled but obedient as she settled back onto the swing.

I leaned forward slightly, my arms resting on either side of the swing, caging her in. Her wide, hazel eyes flickered to mine, timid yet questioning. I couldn't help but let a playful smirk tug at my lips.

"Zyada nahi bol rahe the aap sabke saamne?" I asked, my tone teasing as I hovered over her, enjoying the faint blush that crept up her cheeks.

Her eyes darted away for a second before meeting mine again, shy and uncertain. "I didn't say it purposely," she replied, her voice soft, almost defensive.

I smiled. She looked perfect like this-flustered, unsure, yet trying to hold her ground. Her T-shirt and trousers were simple, yet on her, they carried a grace that made it impossible to look away.

But my thoughts wandered further. She'd look better in one of my T-shirts, I thought, the image clear in my mind. The fabric oversized, draping over her slender frame, a constant reminder that she was mine. Soon, I promised myself. Very soon.

"So..." I drawled, dragging the word out teasingly, watching her squirm.

"Hn?" she repeated nervously, blinking rapidly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

I leaned in just slightly, lowering my voice. "Ab sabko pata chal hi jayega. By morning, the elders will know too."

She looked confused, and I continued, savoring every reaction. "Thanks to Ruhaan, who will undoubtedly tease me in front of everyone tomorrow. Especially about the dark art you've left on my neck and-"

Before I could finish, her hand flew up to cover my mouth, cutting me off mid-sentence. Her face was a picture of mortified panic, her cheeks flaming red as she shook her head furiously.

I smirked against her palm, unable to resist the urge to tease her further. Without warning, I stuck my tongue out just slightly and gave her hand a quick, deliberate lick.

"Chii! Kya kar rahe hai aap?" she exclaimed, yanking her hand back immediately, her face scrunching up in disgust as she furiously wiped her hand on her trousers.

I chuckled, leaning back slightly, my amusement evident. "Toh humne bolne dijiye na," I said casually, though my grin betrayed how much I was enjoying this.

Her glare was half-hearted at best, and I could see her trying to maintain her composure.

I tilted my head, my voice dropping just a little. "Acha nahi lagega na, if people start saying you're the only one who marked me? As if I'm yours, but you're not mine?"

Her eyes widened in realization, her mouth opening as if to respond, but no words came out. Her blush deepened to a shade I hadn't seen before, and I couldn't stop the satisfied grin that spread across my face.

"Samajh gayi?" I asked, leaning back just enough to give her some space but staying close enough to keep her flustered.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away, clearly embarrassed but unsure how to respond. I chuckled softly, letting her win the silence but knowing I'd already won this round.

"Avantika," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. She turned to me, her hazel eyes catching the moonlight, reflecting both curiosity and hesitation.

"Do you trust me?" I asked gently, letting the question hang in the cool night air.

Her gaze lingered on mine, searching for something.

I exhaled slowly, relieved yet unsure. "I promise you, I will never do anything without your consent," I said, my tone steady, each word laced with sincerity.

"But... there's something I need to tell you. And something I need to apologize for."

Her brows furrowed slightly, concern flickering in her eyes, but she didn't interrupt.

I looked away for a moment, my thoughts drifting back to that first night. The memory of my own words stung more than I cared to admit, their sharpness cutting through my resolve even now. I forced myself to meet her gaze again.

"The first night... when I said those words," I began, my voice soft but steady.

I told you I married you because I was forced into it. That I wasn't ready for marriage. That I didn't think I could give this relationship a chance.

I paused, watching as her eyes widened just slightly, the faintest trace of hurt flickering there. My chest tightened, but I pushed on.

"Those words... they were cruel," I admitted, my voice tinged with regret. "I said them out of fear, out of uncertainty, but they were wrong. And I know how much they must have hurt you. For that, Mishti , I am truly sorry."

Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her shirt, but she didn't look away. I could see the questions forming in her eyes, the vulnerability she tried so hard to mask.

I leaned forward just slightly, keeping my voice as soft and calm as I could. "I've been thinking a lot about us. About you. About how I want to move forward."

She blinked, her lips parting slightly, but she stayed silent, waiting.

"I'm ready now," I said, my tone firmer, though still gentle. "I'm ready to give this relationship a chance-if you are. But only if you're comfortable. Only if you want it. I won't push, and I won't expect anything from you that you're not ready to give."

Her breath hitched, and I saw the uncertainty in her expression give way to something softer, something unspoken.

"I want to make this work," I continued, leaning back slightly to give her space, though my gaze never left hers. "But I want it to be our choice. Not mine. Not anyone else's. Ours."

The swing swayed gently beneath us, the silence filled only by the soft rustling of the leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets. I gave her a small smile, hoping to ease the weight of my words.

"You don't have to answer now," I said softly. "Take your time. Think about it. I'll wait, for as long as you need as long as you want."

Her eyes stayed on mine, searching, questioning, but there was no rush in her gaze. I saw her fingers relax against the edge of the swing, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly.

In that moment, under the glow of the moonlight, I silently promised myself-whatever her decision, I would honor it. I would protect her, respect her, and cherish her, even if it meant waiting forever.

Avantika's POV

The night had taken an unexpected turn. He had started with his usual teasing, the kind that made me flustered and unsure how to respond. I had been bracing myself to endure it, to push through the embarrassment like always.

But then, everything changed.

His teasing stopped, and the shift in his tone was like a ripple through the air-calmer, softer, but heavier. It wasn't just playful banter anymore; it was something else entirely.

And then he asked about my trust.

The way he said it, the way he looked at me-it felt as though he was holding out a hand, not just to ask but to offer something, something I didn't fully understand yet. His gaze, steady and unyielding, wasn't demanding or impatient. It was waiting. Watching. Respecting.

I didn't know how to respond. I didn't even know what to feel. Trust wasn't something I gave easily-it had always been earned through quiet actions, not words. Yet somehow, with him, I wanted to nod. To say yes.

When he spoke again, apologizing, my chest tightened. I had buried that night, his words, his rejection, deep inside me, hoping they would fade into nothing. But hearing him acknowledge it now, with so much regret in his voice, it was like a wound I thought had healed being reopened-except this time, it didn't sting.

It didn't sting because he wasn't dismissing me. He wasn't pushing me away. He was... apologizing. Taking responsibility in a way I had never expected from anyone.

I didn't know what to make of it.

And then came the part that left me frozen. When he spoke of giving this relationship a chance, it wasn't with arrogance or expectation.

It was with a softness I hadn't thought possible. There was no rush in his words, no pressure, no demands-just a simple offer. One that I could accept or reject, and he would honor either choice.

It felt... foreign.

I had spent so long bracing myself for rejection, for disappointment, that I didn't know how to process this. Someone asking for my comfort, for my consent, before even hoping for more-it felt surreal.

I kept thinking about the way his voice softened, the way his gaze never wavered from mine. There was no trace of anger or impatience, only calm. Only respect.

And the strangest thing was, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel cornered or overwhelmed. I felt seen. I felt heard.

And that scared me more than anything else.

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